Screaming in Silence
by Steel Quill
Summary: Hayami can be sensitive.
1. Process One

Screaming in Silence

By: The Steel Quill

I don't own this series, naturally.

Serve, honor, obey, rage.

These were my four drives.

These were my four thoughts.

These were my life.

And now they aren't.

Papa, father. He killed you. He destroyed you. But I saw your copse. You were smiling. You never smiled.

-

Muteo grasped the massive navy-blue beast, as she petted his hair in the shaded island with palm trees. Muteo looked up at the dusky sky. The artic wind blowing calmly through her skin, making her breathe in a little.

She let go of Verg, and let him relax onto the sand.

-

I must find him, I have lost my rage.

That disgusting vile creature, the little one clinging to her. Hayami.

-

Verg opened a lazy eye to the swaying palm, while the sun blazed above and the silhouette of a gull floated across, giving a weak hoot into the wind. The vibrant imperial topaz eyes moved down, looking to Muteo lying in the water, flapping her pectoral fins and hissing in delight. He frowned, and closed his eyes. Thinking of Hayami, he needed to know where that human was. He needed to know why Papa died with a smile. Feeling the hybrid's clothes on him, he looked down at his baggy human-like clothes. The comforting sea-smelling cotton wrapped around him, he felt no more rage compelling him to kill.

He wanted peace. He wanted peace of mind and soul. He wanted to know why Papa died with a smile.

"Muteo." His calm voice resonated from his throat. Muteo's head picked up, and looked over.

"Nyu?" Her common response came.

"Hayami, where is he?" Verg said, looking back to the swaying palm.

"Ha-ya-mi..." Muteo replied, looking up to the clouds in the sky.

-

Tetsu Hayami down at the green-colored sea lapping at his apartment building, feeling agitated that he had stopped smoking.

After things have calmed down when Zorndyke had died, and his paperwork was completed, Hayami left the Blue Fleet. Kino had tried to stop him, but he could only give the response that the Blue Fleet dug up some memories, thousands upon which he would have liked to keep, but most of them he would want to be gone. Kino, not really taking this lightly, understood that it was for the better of him.

With the untimely death of the Captain by a growing cancer formation, Kino had assumed the title of Captain of the Blue Sub Six, further glorifying her role in the war.

Hayami wandered back inside, laying down shirtless on his couch, sighing deeply. He looked out to the window, at the purple-red hue sky. The yellowing sun reminded of those eyes.

'Shark boy,' He thought, looking at the outer rim of the sun. 'Why did you think I was lying?'

Looking now at the slowly circulating fan on his ceiling, he felt the cool breeze gust slightly over his tanned skin.

"He's such an idiot."

-

Verg walked about the village, nodding to the inhabitants that looked at him and bowed their bodies.

He was regarded as some sort of god, with Muteo at his side. The villagers continued on with life, as they have for the longest time. 'They miss Papa, as much as I do. But not one of them wants to know why he was smiling. All they want is a dead human washed up on shore.' Verg thought, 'Not that I wouldn't mind that, but I don't have to kill anymore. Why should I have to?'

He walked, with his sandals flopping against his feet, into the house that Zorndyke himself used. 'Why did you have to die, Papa?' Looking to his right, he noticed Muteo had stayed at the doorway. She nodded, smiled, and left. 'She has been good to me. Does she know more than I do?' Wondering what she might have thought, he wandered through the house, his bare feet stepping softly on the wooden floors to the bedroom.

Lying down on his bed, across from Zorndyke's, he looked out to the window, watching the red-purple hued sky with the yellowing sun. Looking to the sky, he saw the same purple on that human.

"Hayami..." He thought, relaxing to sleep.

-

The sun peeked over the dark-watered horizon, making the waters shimmer with an ethereal light.

Verg was awake, and eating fish out at the beaches.

" Hmm.." He wondered, while he bit the small fish.

-

Tetsu Hayami sat in his kitchen, slicing open a fresh orange.

"Shark boy..." The man was on his thoughts, all morning. Though it was only nine AM, he still thought of the beast more intently than ever.

-

He could take one of the Spiders, thought the humans could find it easily. They patrolled their borders now, looking for any and all intrusions in the small treaty that was signed.

'Humans are malicious things...' He thought, washing his face in the lukewarm water.

Speaking up with a small "Nya," Muteo appeared from the path to the village.

"Ha-ya-mi?" She said, looking at Verg with a pleased face.

"Soon." He said. Breathing in, and breathing out his name, he repeated again, "Soon."

-

Walking out, clad in a white shirt and a brown jacket, Tetsu Hayami walked the windy catwalks of his town, looking at the meager re-construction of the town. Looking back to the walkways, he continued on to the grocery store.

People nodded to Hayami, and looked at him with a hero's appraisal. he looked back at them, saying "No." with his eyes. He didn't like recognition, nor did he like his name being glorified as "the man who shot Jung Zorndyke."

He hated any title, or any honor. Because it was an empty honor, a wrong honor for giving an old man rest for a lifetime of pain and destruction. The Old Man with No Heart, he thought of him. Which was wrong, since he had more heart that most humans did when it came to caring for his own people. Zorndyke loved his children, his creations. Hayami had cached a glimpse of his creations mourning and crying over the only human that gave them life, and allowed them to keep it.

Walking through the dearth markets, he picked up a few items. Vegetables, fruits, eggs, milk, tea, he ran through his mind.

He felt common in the markets, because none of the owners actually looked at him like a hero, they looked at him like a customer, and that was it.

Walking back through the catwalks, he noticed a sort of bent shape to them, then again, these steel walks were under strain a lot.

His second surprise was the sudden glistening outline in the hallway of the apartment building. Thinking it was probably a child that had gone swimming, he shrugged it off. Why should it bother him.

Entering his apartment, with the grocery bag in hand. He entered, turned, and closed the door. Hearing nothing behind him besides the occasional gull caw, he turned around to see the back of a sanguine-haired body. Shock and amazement gripped him, as he saw the blue body shift on the couch.

Turning it's head, it smiled with white lips.

"Hayami."


	2. Process Two

Screaming in Silence

Process Two.

1:43 PM

Hayami looked at the blue beast lounging on the couch. Contempt, disgust, fear, and intrigue flew through his head down to his throat, where it seemed to ball together causing him to have difficulty to breathe.

"Hayami." The navy blue beast spoke, resonating a clear sound, assuming a different expression on his visage.

Hayami looked towards the kitchen, where the knife-block was, then snapped his head back to the now sullen Verg. His breathing rate changed, his body tensed for what felt like an eternity.

"I've come here on behalf of peace..." The monster started, paying attention to Hayami's calm face but his panicking body. Verg rose from the couch, nonchalantly walked over to Hayami.

Hayami glanced from the body at the face, down to the feet. Looking at him, he saw that his face adorned scars. He saw nothing else, as Verg had on him a flowing black robe, extending far to the floor, but ending sharply at the ankles. Two draping sleeves at the shoulder covered what were the beast's massive arms.

The sleeves picking up, to reveal two hands without their usual viciously long nails, slowly converging onto Hayami. Hayami feared the worst, and threw himself to the back wall, his mind in panic. Verg twisted his seasoned face into a smile, and drew his arms around him again, which contained the shivering Hayami.

'WhatthehellisgoingonstopitIneedtokillhim.' Repeated continuously through Hayami's head.

"I need to ask things about Papa."

'Shut up.'

"He died smiling."

'He died, didn't he?'

"And I want to know why..."

'He hated you.'

"He was all I had."

"You're an idiot." Hayami finished, regaining himself, and glancing over to the wall.

1:50 PM

"...why?" Pain was in Verg's voice.

"You're a god damned Hybrid in a human environment."

"I need to know something important, though."

"I don't care! You can't do this to me, you're out of your mind."

"I may be--"

"YOU--" Disrupted Hayami, glaring upwards to the contorted face, being squeezed tighter, Hayami closed his mouth.

"I miss my Papa."

"I don't care." Whispered the tiny human.

"I've stopped my murder, I haven't even planned revenge, and I don't want to. Papa left Ammonyushuu with the Book of Gaudia, showing his thoughts through time."

"So what if you've read his diary?" Hayami demanded roughly. When Verg tried to talk, Hayami wrapped his arms around the robed beast and squeezed himself to Verg in force, "Zorndyke wanted us to live in harmony. Not in war, from the very fucking beginning. But when the majority thought you were freaks and didn't deserve to live, that's when he started this huge fucking war, with you as his General." Verg's face fell more, deepening to a frown. "Just shut up, he died because he wanted this to happen. He wanted everything to come so far as it did." Verg bowed his head forward. "He fucking wanted you and I to be able to fucking dance across some field, and not have to worry about people staring in disgust."

"Papa wanted us to be happy with humans?"

"Fuck yes. That was the entire point of him doing this."

"I need to sit." Releasing Hayami from his grip, Verg led himself back to the couch.

Hayami glanced at the wall.

2:20 PM

"God dammit." Hayami said, moving towards the kitchen, looking over to the beast, holding his head in his hands, mumbling something.

'You should talk to him.' His conscience spoke to him.

'He fucking back handed me when I last tried to talk to him like this.'

'Still, you were there with a good heart. Who's to say you aren't now?'

'He crushed. My. Ribs.'

'He was mad!'

'Why should I, again?'

'Because you have to reclaim your humanity, Tetsu.'

'I never gave you permission to use my name.'

'It's besides the point. Go over to him, and comfort him. He lost his father, by your hands; remember?'

Sighing, Tetsu Hayami prepared himself for the hardest thing he'd have to do. Walking over to the sofa overlooking the tanning bay, he laid himself onto the beast's lap.

"I know what you're going through." Hayami said, looking up into the shark-like face.

"You have no idea." The beast whispered. Looking down at the human head. Chucking, Hayami shook his head.

"Your armies destroyed cities, those containing my entire family." Hayami stated, checking his voice to a more soothing tone.

"Is this supposed to make Papa's death feel better?" Verg groaned.

"No...It's supposed to make you come to terms." Hayami offered, holding his left hand and dragging it to the right side of Verg's face.

"I remember trying to tell you this before. You hurt me pretty bad, but I wanted to get that out."

"Why are you telling me this...now?"

"Because I couldn't when you were in a bloodied rage."

"..." Verg said nothing as he dropped his right hand down to Hayami's face, "I shouldn't have hit you."

"You were angry." Hayami continued, holding the beasts face.

"I've been trying to behave better, and I think I have been." Verg continued, "When you...killed Papa, I thought that they had allowed you too. But I never thought he wanted to die..."

"He just wanted everyone to be accepting. I gotta admit, your father was a genius. He's perfectly combined you with other types of DNA into what you are today."

"You're unusual." Verg said, lifting Hayami upright onto his chest.

"Huh?" Hayami said, watching as Verg tied his arms around his chest.

"Before, you wanted to kill me and see my body floating across the ocean. Now, you seem like you're comforting me."

"Isn't that funny?" Hayami said, relaxing into the broad chest.

"I think it is..."

"Just shut up and sleep."

"What?"

"I never caught your name, by the way." Hayami said, snuggling into Verg.

"Verg." Verg said.


	3. Process 3 Oil and Water

Screaming in Silence

Chapter 3 - "Oil and Water".

You know I never really did understand why the fuck this monster wanted to be here and now; whenever he makes a quick movement, my mind flies back to when that mammoth backhand went across my face; whenever he smiles I think of the millions of eyes that saw with eyes unseeing that cunning smile, that smile that signaled the beginning of a systematic destruction of humanity.

But fuck, man. Whenever he moves quickly, he knows he's done something wrong. Whenever he smiles he knows he's done something good enough. I can't fucking fathom why he has to be so fucking...there.

Reading.

Writing.

Reading.

Writing.

Reading.

Reading.

Readingwritingreadingwritingreadingwritingreadin

"Hayami?"

And talking. Talking better now than he could ever. Fuck he knows the language. He knows it better than most degree-holding high-ups.

And that's-"Hayami what's wrong?"

So childish and simple it hurts.

-

He looked in deep contemplation, I couldn't see his face, it was just hanging over the balcony of the apartment; looking down into a blinding mixture of pure color.

Papa always mentioned I had a certain aptitude. A learning ability that no one other in my land had. I could think and focus on a particular subject with such precision and excellence that it intrigued Papa more than anything.

Even though with this ability; I let my time be consumed by learning the blunt art of War.

And as I said before, I was very precise and exact with everything that I did.

With a few megatons of over-force, maybe.

But with this aptitude that I dedicated to literature and the art of words.

With my newfound cosmic wisdom.

I couldn't see into Hayami's thoughts.

While I could understand the complexity of English literature, the subtle message of Japanese literature, and the robust and romantic literature of the European cultures.

I couldn't understand Hayami. His mind, his thoughts, his writings. He has enough of them to be six people and still maintain a bill of clean mental health.

But why is it so hard to get past him?

I say it again for a third time.

-

The hulking frame, losing a little bulk from the path of a doctor of philosophy, but keeping that menacing toned figure.

Drifted silently towards me. Now he's not on water, but just how he moves.

He doesn't make sound anymore.

I guess being away from the fuck-deafening cannons for this long may have helped his hearing improve.

Because after him telling me in his own stalker way, he can hear my heartbeat from across the room.

It sucks when I need to lie to him, since he's got his own fucking polygraph in his ears.

Whatever.

"Hayami."

The third time?

Almighty three.

"What?"

"What's wrong?"

I made a snort sound with my nose.

"Don't flick me off."

I made another one.

"Sarcasm doesn't help either."

I sigh.

"Neither does being quiet."

I sigh and inhale.

He perks up.

"I'm remembering you before you."

Now I look up. He's at the doorway looking at me, watching my bent figure be supported by the metal railing on the balcony.

He looks to talk, inhaling so subtly, that I just raise my hand for him to not talk.

_"I'm remembering you before you."_ Really?

Do I want to remember something like that, something violent and ugly.

Something destructive and painful, something murderous and cold.

I guess yeah; I do.

A memory that kinda activates everything in me is that backhand.

That one powerful strike, throwing me down to his own mercy.

His naked frame, rippled with muscle and riddled with cuts.

His naked eye flowing with naked blood, his other flowing anger.

I feel the body press against me now though.

Not how my mind wants to feel him against me.

But how his comfort seems to roll off of him in a tantalizing wave.

I open my eyes, I open my eyes to everything beyond the sea.

Reconstruction happening; I see something I haven't taken in for a while.

I guess six months when he came into my life.

His hulking frame.

His bare body.

His bare emotion.

His thirst for all things high-class.

The sunset.

Something so essentially pleasing. Something so mixed in color.

Something that made my whole body go cold.

I guess when you have one sense demanding power in the brain, everything else just..dims.

And that's when the only warmth and support I felt.

Was from the hate I couldn't bear to hold anymore.

Fucking cool how my hate became love, right?

-

Hayami stares off into the sky.

And I wonder why humans always look into the sky during this time. Sure there's a visual display. A feast for the eyes.

But why do I feel his heart slowing, his temperature drop.

I fear for him sometimes. I fear for humanity.

I fear that I can't help him.

After feeling desolation with my own kind, I sought him again. I remembered the rage I felt.

But it wasn't at him.

It was Papa's rage.

But Papa's rage had died long ago.

I figured out in my own exploration that my rage was Papa's old rage.

Papa's fire had dimmed, and his hatred subsided.

I guess he thought his war was trivial, and I couldn't accept that.

Not after I had spent all those hours learning, training, fighting, building.

Now I know why he died, and why he didn't mind going.

And why it was idiotic and pathetic to cry over his corpse.

A spirit leaving the world in peace, like Papa is so much better than having a city's spirit leave in such sundered turmoil.

Sometimes it's just too much for me to bear.

But sometimes it's when I remind myself that learning about the humans and their culture and their lives...

I can support one.

And that somehow, the millions that ate my lead.

That tasted their own blood and fried flesh.

Can find some hope that their one killer now falls to the mercy of their savior, that his heartbeat slowing forces the killer to run to his so side that in the occasion that the heart stops, the killer can resuscitate for a time while the proper authorities on life arrive.

That when Hayami looks as if he is going to fall, my entire being screams out a defiant no, that suddenly my old bravado comes back and I can catch him with a fury and force of a thousand guns.

Guns.

They wake me up sometimes, in the night.

When I think of Hayami being silently "sniped" from a rooftop or something unlikely.

I think of him dying and no amount of air from my chest can save him.

That no amount of repeated pressure I apply can help him.

Though, irony would have it that if I did lose him.

I would understand perfectly humanity's desire for me to be gone.

But for some reason, when my mind falls down to that level of helplessness, Hayami is there to give me a look.

"As long as I'm here, they won't hurt you." He'd say uncharacteristically.

And I believe him every time.

But some nights I just get off of the bed I made.

In order to look at him.

Lying and sleeping in a bed not well enough suited for the savior of mankind.

But to his own?

It was too rich.

And that's why whenever he appears to be falling.

My strength rises.

My heart hastens.

My mind goes primal to protect.

To protect the savior of my life.

And mankind.

-

A brilliant painted portrait of a perfect dusk sky has a red sun being halved; casting the night a lower red undertone while a pastel rainbow seems to follow in ascending fashion.

However two beings in this picture are no where in perfect harmony.

But how their bodies just seem to form into one another just gives more reason for them to be in perfect harmony.

But for now, they'll just be minor interval away from a perfect sound..

The taller of the two picks up the smaller, and the two head in. The taller just closing the screen door to the rebuilt apartment.

With the new government in place around Japan, a city which housed the hero of humanity renamed itself New Venice, after building it's land according to it's new watery foundation.

Days pass with this painting being repeatedly hung at around 6:53 PM.

But one day, a new painting dons a gilded frame.

A sad one.

-

I can't get out of this fucking pit.

Why the hell am I still alive here?

I don't want to be here.

-

His heartbeat dropped.

-

I can't stop crying.

Why the fuck did this happen now?

-

He's holding a piece of paper?

It has a line on it.

-

Blood always stains black.

-

Rust on the paper?

-

"Hayami?"

Go away.

-

"Hayami...?"

A second call, my hand reaching for his shoulder.

-

"Hayami...Tetsu, please."

A third and a pressure making me turn to his face.

A face scarred now by concern and shrapnel.

And I watch him buckle his knees to my level, which isn't much of a difference anyway.

I see his golden eye, and my own pain being reflected in pristine love.

I lift my hands, and I gently comb my hands through coarse thick hair. Feeling my hands be stripped of painful memories into red hair. Red hair I can't get enough of.

I let a curse slip my lips, as I take the head and tilt it as to give myself access to the mouth that quivers at the corners to a confused and worried state.

I can't control my mind, I can't control this fucking pit.

But I can let him share my burden.

So I do, in one lick of my own lips, and a gentle press of mine to his.

A shock generates itself in my body, as my eyes are trained to the now narrow pupil of amazement and confusion.

"I can't ask you to understand my pain, especially when you don't see me as someone like this. You see me as a strong person."

I feel him holding me closer to him, bringing my mouth away from his but closer and closer to him and his ear.

In a slow whisper, as I spread my legs to fit closer to him and wrap my own arms around him as well, I spell out my problem.

"Love is something you can't understand, or control."

&.

Till next year, I guess.

I never forget stories, really. But juggling ideas are hard to do. As well as forcing out something as complex as this, it takes a while.

But not two years, I think.

I hope this will tie you all over.

In the mean time? Listen to Barber's Adagio. It's the theme, I suppose, of this chapter.


End file.
